This and That
by muhnemma
Summary: Series of oneshots from the perspectives of various characters. Chapter two: in which Munkustrap becomes leader. First Cats fanfic, all feedback welcomed!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I obviously don't own the characters. Feedback, good or bad, would be welcomed as this is my first Cats fanfic.

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Rumpleteazer was an easy going kind of cat. She liked to think that very little ruffled her, that she could roll with the punches with the best of them, and she was right. Until the bonnet. Pink, _very _pink, with the kind of yellowed lace that hadn't been seen in the country for the best part of a century. No self respecting cat would be caught dead wearing it. No self respecting cat would even suffer its existence. But from the mingled pride and smugness on Mungo's face as he dragged the monstrosity towards her, she knew she wouldn't have the opportunity to destroy it any time soon.

"What _is _that thing?" Teazer asked, her face crumpling in disgust.

"That, my darlin' devious partner in crime, is the answer to all our problems," Mungo said, grinning.

Teazer prodded the heap of material skeptically. "I didn't know we had any problems that could be solved with a punctured jellyfish."

Rolling his eyes, Mungo said, "You've got no imagination! It'll work a treat once it's on your lovely head."

"That thing ain't coming anywhere near my head!" Teazer shrieked.

"How else are we supposed to get close to Miss Pembridge?" Mungo retorted. Miss Pembridge was a particularly juicy target they had first spotted a few weeks ago. She owned enough jewels and silks to make the pair's mouths water. They had tried the usual trick, attempting to wheedle their way into her affections and her house by bumping up against her legs and purring loudly whenever she emerged onto the street. But it hadn't worked. Miss Pembridge, it turned out, only had time for prize winning cats who wore an awful lot of pink bows. Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer didn't quite qualify.

"There are plenty more tasty little marks waiting for us out there," Teazer said firmly. "Miss Pembridge can stick this thing," she kicked the bonnet, "up her-"

"Teazer!"

"I'm not wearing it!"

"Yes you are!"

Teazer's eyes narrowed in challenge. "Make me."

Mungo lunged forwards, bonnet clamped between his teeth as he attempted to beat her into submission with his paws. The scuffle lasted only a few moments. Teazer strolled away, fur sleek and unruffled, leaving a dazed Mungojerrie on the floor, the bonnet tied firmly to his head.


	2. Chapter 2

The house was silent as Munkustrap slipped inside. The family, he knew, were asleep inside their beds, safely out of his way until the morning. If they were awake they would no doubt chase him from the house, fearful that he would startle or harm the aging tom slumbering in the kitchen. The tom was Carpiel, leader and protector of the Jellicle tribe, and he had told Munkustrap that it was exceedingly important that he visit him quickly.

Padding quietly into the kitchen, Munkustrap looked around for the cat he admired and loved so dearly. His father had died when he was a kitten, and Carpiel had taken him under his wing. From him Munkustrap had learned how to scavenge food when it was necessary, how to defend the tribe from attack, and how to smell trouble in the wind. Now nearing adulthood, he helped Carpiel as much as he could while the old cat declined. After a few moments of searching Munkustrap found him curled up on a mound of yellowed newspapers.

"Carpiel!" He called. "Are you awake?"

"The tribe is under attack by that young trouble maker Macavity: what do you do?" A cracked voice asked from out of the darkness. Munkustrap rolled his eyes, but nevertheless applied his mind to the question. Carpiel had been springing these small quizzes on him for the past few weeks, although he never gave a satisfactory reason why.

"I would order those who care for the kittens to hide them, and then defend the tribe with the able bodied cats," Munkustrap said after a moment of reflection.

"Good," Carpiel wheezed. "You're a sensible lad, Munk, as sensible as I can make you. I don't think there's anything left for me to drill into your head."

Munkustrap chuckled. "You've had a long enough time to teach me."

A deep breath that seemed to rattle inside Carpiel's shrunken chest. "Nothing left," he whispered. "It's your time now. Time to protect them, time to lead them."

Frowning, Munkustrap said, "Don't say that. You'll be looking after us for a long time to come." He waited, but no reply came. With increasing trepidation he walked forwards, gently calling Carpiel's name. By the time he reached him they were almost face to face. Carpiel's glassy eyes stared at nothing, sparkling with remnants of former life in the moonlight.


End file.
